Chapter 18: (This Is AI - Was trying to prove that no one notices AI) I hate myself… sorry…

The world came back to Helenos in jagged, painful fragments.

He felt the cold touch of the marble against his cheek first, and then he noticed how heavy and sore his face had become. Every pulse of his blood was a reminder of the weight of his injuries. The smell was the next thing he noticed; he could scent the lavender that had been crushed into the stone, now mixed with the metallic tang of his own blood.

After that, he saw the light. The sun was rising over Sparta, though it did not care that Helenos was hurting. It shone through the bronze bars on the balcony and divided the room into sharp, alternating areas of gold and dark shadow. As Helenos watched the sunlight, he could not help but think about his pain. The scent of lavender and blood still hung in the air, a thick reminder of the night before.

Helenos did not move from the spot. He remained lying exactly where Menelaia had left him, his body tangled in his fine silk robes.

He was covered in bruises, and it hurt just to breathe. Every time he took a breath, it felt as though something sharp was scraping against the inside of his lungs. I am not sure if my ribs are merely cracked or if they are actually broken

He simply lay there and waited for the pain to stop hurting him, waiting for the inevitable moment when Menelaia would return. The drug made his mind feel exceptionally foggy, making him feel like a ghost stuck inside a body that was no longer his own. The tower was a place he knew all too well, and the Queen’s routine was always the same. Soon, the doors would open, a servant would enter with tea, and then the Queen would come to see her treasure—the thing she cared about most in the world.

I really need to get out of here, he told himself. If she sees me like this, she will definitely figure out that I am still fighting her. She wants a Prince—a man with no problems. I will be the Prince she wants; I will try to be that person for her. I will be like a doll, doing what she wants and saying what she needs to hear, just so she can be happy with the version of me she has created.

Suddenly, the big bronze doors swung open. The movement created a heavy noise that vibrated through the floor and made his headache flare with a new intensity. He heard footsteps approaching, followed by the familiar, rhythmic clicking of Menelaia’s sandals on the stone.

Helenos slowly forced himself up from the floor. His fingers slipped on the polished surface, but he finally managed to stand, leaning heavily on his ivory chair for support.

Menelaia stopped a few feet away from him. She was wearing a beautiful dress, and her hair was intricately braided into small, elegant coils. In this light, she did not look like the woman who had kicked him the night before.

"Look at you," she said, her voice sounding deceptively sweet. She knelt on the floor in front of him and reached out to touch the dark bruise on his jaw. Her fingers felt cold against his heated skin. "The fever is gone now," she murmured. "You look calm today, Helenos."

Helenos did not pull away from her touch; he stayed perfectly still. You need to make her think you really care about her. You have to get close to her. You must make this feel like it is really happening. With a calculated effort, he leaned his face into her hand and shut his eyes. He hated how her skin felt—it was like ice against his lip—but he knew what he was supposed to do. He had to follow the rules of this prison. He had to make her believe that he loved her.

"I am sorry, my Queen," Helenos said, looking up at her with a face that was a carefully crafted lie. "I was not feeling well. I had dreams that did not make sense." He lowered his voice, acting as though he feared her disapproval. "I am sorry, my Queen. I do not want you to be angry with me."

Menelaia’s eyes grew wide, and all at once, her anger was completely gone. She looked genuinely happy as she pulled him up from the floor and wrapped her arms around him. The gold threads on her dress pressed hard against his injured ribs.

My ribs really hurt, he thought, gritting his teeth. I have to be quiet. I cannot let her hear me gasp for air. He wrapped his arms around her waist and held her tightly, his body shaking from the physical pain and the strain of the pretense. He buried his face in the crook of her neck and held it there, hoping she would think he was trembling because of the depth of his love for her.

She reached out and stroked his hair, calling him her "Beloved" She told him that he had finally learned how to love the person who took care of him. She believed that he finally understood how much he belonged to her. He rested against her for a long time, doing exactly what was expected of him. He tried to calm his heart so it would not beat so fast, and he tried to convince himself of the lie so that she would believe it too.

I want her to think everything is okay. If I tell myself the lie is true, perhaps she will believe it as well.

A servant soon entered the room carrying a silver tray. The tea on the tray smelled sweet, though there was a hint of something rotten beneath the perfume. Menelaia picked up one of the cups and grabbed Helenos’s hair, holding his head still so he could not turn away. She pressed the cup to his lips. She told him to drink, saying that he should drink the peace she had made for him.

Helenos swallowed the liquid, which was uncomfortably hot. He felt the heat spread through him until his body felt numb all over. He let his head fall onto her shoulder while he drank, not bothering to catch the liquid that spilled. It soaked into his silk sleeve and stained her fine clothes, but he simply let it happen.

I need to keep my mind clear, he whispered to himself in the silence of his thoughts. The mountains are a real place, and I do not want the fog to cover them again. I have to make sure my mind is sharp so that I can see them clearly. I cannot let her take the mountains away from me.

As the medicine began to work, his limbs felt weak and heavy. Menelaia helped him sit back down in his ivory chair and stayed with him for an hour.

She talked about how they would rule together, and Helenos merely nodded at her. He even took her hand and held it for a moment. Though the action made him feel sick to his stomach, he did it anyway to maintain the illusion.

When she finally walked out, the locks clicked twice in the silence. Now that he was by himself, he waited until he felt the guards outside were calm. He leaned over the side of the chair, an action that caused a flare of agony in his side. He felt around in the gap in the floor until his fingers found the bronze coin. The moment his skin touched the metal, a jolt of awareness surged through his body.

[BRONZE COIN DETECTED: CONNECTION ESTABLISHED] [CRITICAL ALERT: PHYSICAL INTEGRITY COMPROMISED] [SYSTEM WARNING: EXTERNAL DRUG INPUT DETECTED]

He felt something. He felt it get blocked by the fog. He didn’t feel that before.

He could feel the damage across his body as the coin helped him identify every injury he had sustained. He squeezed the metal into his palm so hard that it cut his skin, and the pain he felt was sharp and grounding. It felt real to him. The coin made him feel like a person again, and it was the only thing that made him feel human in this tower.

The tea isn't just a prison anymore; I can make it a weapon. If I can learn to spill it or fake the swallow, I can keep my head above the fog. I'll use her own hunger for affection against her. She’s so desperate for me to love her that she’s blinded by it. I’ll be the perfect, doting Prince, and while she’s lost in that fantasy, she might just get careless with the keys or the doors. I just need her to look at me and stop seeing a threat.

Helenos remembered the truth then. The truth was that he was the very thing she thought she had buried forever. He sat back in his chair and held the coin tight until his knuckles turned white. He knew he had to find a way to get out of this place.

As the sun set, the room turned a deep, bruised orange. Helenos stood up, his ribs aching with every movement, and walked to the balcony.

He could do it.

He could get away using the coin.

.